So Let Me Slip Away
by Berry's Ambitions
Summary: [Drabble] If you were in love with a ghost, it was difficult. If you were in love with Stretch McFadden, it was impossible. [Stretch/Kat]


_**So Let Me Slip Away**_

_**By Berry's Ambitions**_

**A/N: Of course my second _Casper_ fic is going to be another Stretch/Kat. They are one of my favourite pairings of the moment, after all. XD It's just a little thing, really. Kat's intended to be her late teens or early twenties, in case anyone is wondering. Obviously she won't feel anything for Stretch until she reaches a certain age, and vice-versa. And a long-term relationship between a ghost and a living girl with her whole life ahead of her? Unless they can make it work somehow... not likely. Anyway, hope you like it! :)**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own _Casper_.**

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Kat leans against the wall of the hallway, closing her eyes and trying to get her heart rate back to normal.

She's reminded of the way she felt on that very first night living in Whipstaff - the night her life was turned upside down. Many years had passed since said night, but Kat can still vividly remember the adrenaline that spiked through her veins, the way her breath caught in her throat as she crouched within the closet, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

Perhaps because it is the way she's feeling now.

She'd thought it would be easy to block out these feelings, to act as if they did not exist. Of _course_ being away from home for so long wasn't going to change anything. Kat reprimands herself for being so foolish. She should have been more prepared.

Then again, she doubts anything would prepare her for being around -

Kat shuts down this train of thought immediately, stomach rolling. Inhales deeply, exhales slowly. Just like the way her father taught her.

She rubs her arms, forcing herself to relax. She's away from the room now. She'll be okay. She has to be.

Kat steps away from the wall and finds the staircase, making a beeline towards the kitchen. She doesn't plan on making a habit of using food as a source of comfort (_Wouldn't want to end up like Fatso, after all,_ she thinks wryly) but doesn't have many other alternatives. Going to her father or Casper about this is absolutely out of the question, and Kat doesn't feel like thinking about it anymore. If she doesn't think about it - doesn't think about _him_ - it can't drive her crazy.

Now if only she can stop thinking altogether.

Kat discovers the door to the fridge is left ajar and tries not to roll her eyes. At least there's no mess on the floor this time, she figures. God only knows where it could have came from.

She opens the door fully, rummaging around for the raspberry danish she left in there only a day before and letting out a sigh of relief when she discovers it untouched. In this household, such a thing is considered a blessing.

Kat tears off the plastic wrap (with more force than necessary, she will admit) and takes a large bite. The sweetness of the pastry overwhelms her for reasons beyond Kat, and she starts chewing more vigorously.

It doesn't help her forget. The memories are still fresh in her mind; the images that accompany them even more so.

Stretch teasing her about the haircut she got while away at college, actually reaching out for one of stray locks. He'd intertwined around one ectoplasmic finger around it, informing her that if she chopped any more off, people would mistake her for a boy.

The moment that his hand had brushed across the back of her neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Kat had shot him a look of annoyance in an effort to conceal the alarm she'd felt - a warning for him to stay away.

Their eyes locked, just for a moment, but she knew that he knew.

If you were in love with a ghost, it was difficult. If you were in love with Stretch McFadden, it was impossible.

Of course, the things that made him insufferable to most had been what drew Kat in to begin with. The sarcasm, the craftiness, the keen intelligence in his violet eyes not present in his brothers. His crude sense of humor and insatiable desire to cause trouble for 'skin-sacks'. The anger and bitterness lurking behind his childish attitude; a side to him that few knew about, Kat being one of them. In the past she has seen Stretch lose it - _really_ lose it - and it's not pretty.

And yet Kat cares for him all the same.

She doesn't want to feel this way. Not about someone like Stretch. She wants to blame it all on him, doesn't want to carry this burden around with her for the rest of her life. She does not want him to become her unfinished business when she leaves this world.

Kat cannot - will not - allow this to happen. Not to her. Not if that means...

She abruptly shoves her half-eaten danish back into the fridge, no longer hungry, and wondering how she can possibly forget someone who gave her so much to remember.

**~The End~**


End file.
